


to whom this may concern

by mirabilis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Time Skip, atsumu does not help whatsoever and bokuto is here for a good time, intentional comedic relief, sakusa kiyoomi is very much in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirabilis/pseuds/mirabilis
Summary: “But I’m serious, yer surrounded by a group of very attractive, carnivorous men” —Meian coughs around a sip of soda—“except for you, Shouyou-kun. Yer so small I could eat you up.” He has a breezy quality to his voice, like he is very much capable of gobbling Shouyou up in one bite.But Shouyou smiles cheekily, his mouth stuffed with roasted green peas. “Thank you, Atsumu!”Shouyou’s smile is kind of pretty, Kiyoomi notes. It isn’t flashy or bright. It doesn’t  possess the ability to wipe out all of humanity or get smacked on a billboard like Atsumu’s boisterous smile. It’s quieter, but manages to expand Kiyoomi’s heart four times its usual size.Sakusa Kiyoomi is not in love. Yeah, that's a fucking lie.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 37
Kudos: 457
Collections: MSBY Exchange





	to whom this may concern

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElsaFH (Elsa0806)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsa0806/gifts).



> hello! I have returned with another fic! I hope you enjoy this fun little fic, and enjoy this omihina... deep.. intentional comedic relief... 
> 
> cw: aillusions to blood and slight mysophobia, overuse of capitalization, i deeply apologize, philophsiing of hinata shouyou through sakusa's eyes... figurative language included

Kiyoomi has a problem. It’s not necessarily the type of problem that requires the whole world to turn its head. It’s more a friendly concern. Despite how much Atsumu thinks it’s about him. It’s nothing like how Atsumu and Bokuto enjoy mixing milk and bananas together and stuffing their mouths, like it’s their last unfortunate meal on earth, and then proceeding to throw up in Kiyoomi’s perfectly well-tended bushes; thus making his temples pound. 

The problem is a person. Kiyoomi creates a list, well, actually, he first buys a notebook. He secretly thinks it’s useless, as if writing down all his problems can magically boost up his morale. Atsumu prefers to scream out his problems to the world, like the air is his therapist. Kiyoomi would prefer to ball up Atsumu’s feelings and throw them and Atsumu in a trash can. It would mean one last disaster taking up mental space and stealing the air he breathes. 

The first list he creates in his head is a short one. It starts with a grocery list, then a medication run, keeping tabs of his pills. And then it gets out of hand. This is where Kiyoomi wants to scoop his brain out onto a platter. 

The list goes like this: 

  1. Buy condoms for Atsumu... (Don’t let him know you’re writing this shit down)
  2. Free Bokuto’s pet owl from jail (Akaashi’s apartment)
  3. Groceries
  4. Pay the landlord
  5. Realize that you’re fucking head over heels for Hinata Shouyou. 



Kiyoomi stops. Oh, shit. 

That’s the problem he has been avoiding. It’s quite a tedious problem, fabricating itself and disguising its grisly nature as a tickle, brushing the underside of his rib cage where it caresses his heart and then punches it a few rounds. Except, Shouyou would never punch him. e sure hopes not. Shouyou possesses the presence of a friendly mountain lion, blinking his eyes repetitively.

So, yeah, Shouyou is a harmless, friendly mountain lion who manages to morph into a bird, swings its head around obnoxiously.

Kiyoomi mentally rearranges the list, and it begins like this: 

  1. Buy condoms for Atsumu... (But don’t let him know you’re writing this shit down)
  2. Free Bokuto’s pet owl from jail (Akaashi’s apartment)
  3. Groceries
  4. Pay the landlord
  5. ~~Realize that you’re fucking head over heels for Hinata Shouyou~~



That’s better. 

*

“Omi-kun, if there was anyone in this room you could kiss, who would it be?” Atsumu asks. 

Kiyoomi is currently shoved between Atsumu and Bokuto, and Atsumu is looking pointedly at him, waiting for his answer. There also appears to be a piece of oregano stuck between Atsumu’s front teeth. Kiyoomi wonders whether or not there's any possibility that he wouldn’t have to stare at his pearly white teeth, the same one who has the uppermost luck of being plastered on every billboard in Shibuya city. Kiyoomi wonders if he can take a picture and replace every billboard in Shibuya, successfully destroying Atsumu’s well-maintained image.

Kiyoomi takes a long sip of water. Perhaps he can choke on an ice cube. This way Shouyou will sprint to his side and ask him if he’s okay, his voice soft. So soft that it can put even rattle snakes to sleep. Stare at him like Kiyoomi means something. Maybe then maybe Kiyoomi’s heart can be finally laid to rest. 

“Definitely not you. If anything, I would rather kiss the floor before touching my lips to yours.” 

Atsumu’s lips curl mischievously, but he isn’t very good at it. He simply looks weird. It’s very likely that Atsumu is hiding his nerves. He isn’t very good at being at public places although he is the one who suggested to the captain to come to this very restaurant after their game. “Are you flirting with me?” 

“Fuck off.” 

Meian rubs his temple probably due to the shouts ongoing between Bokuto and Inanuki about what they’re going to have for dessert, and Thomas who has the pleasure of being stuck between them. Bokuto begins to ramble about the manifesto of Burrowing owls. Thomas starts to listen. A little. The place Atsumu recommends sucks. It’s extremely busy since it’s happy hour and clearly understaffed. The waiters hustle from table to table, which only manages to slow down service. 

“Language please.” Meian pretends that he’s tending to a group of twenty-somethings and not his four year old children. 

Atsumu bows his head and steeples his fingers like he’s starring in a movie about his villainous, tragic backstory, beginning with how he ate his twin in the womb. Though his brother, Osamu, is very much alive. 

“But I’m serious, yer surrounded by a group of very attractive, carnivorous men” —Meian coughs around a sip of soda—“except for you, Shouyou-kun. Yer so small I could eat you up.” He has a breezy quality to his voice, like he is very much capable of gobbling Shouyou up in one bite. 

But Shouyou smiles cheekily, his mouth stuffed with roasted green peas. “Thank you, Atsumu!” 

Shouyou’s smile is kind of pretty, Kiyoomi notes. It isn’t flashy or bright. It doesn’t possess the ability to wipe out all of humanity or get smacked on a billboard like Atsumu’s boisterous smile. It’s quieter, but manages to expand Kiyoomi’s heart four times its usual size.

Atsumu grins at Shouyou, anyway, winking, and it sets Kiyoomi into an uncomfortable path of wanting to throttle Atsumu. He could. Throttle his teammate, but Shouyou’s dazzling smile brings him back from the brink of murder. “But I’m serious, Omi-kun, you got a crush?” Atsumu deadpans. 

Kiyoomi blinks bankly at him. “No.” 

“Liar.” 

“Shut up.” 

Meian clears his throat, or maybe he’s coughing up the cherry soda that has traveled down the wrong pipe. Atsumu sits back, Shouyou laughs, and Kiyoomi almost chokes on his water. Ah. That laugh. It rings out louder than he clearly intended. Kiyoomi turns gloomy. Atsumu cackles, and Shouyou continues to smile from the brim of his laugh oblivious of how slowly he’s killing Kiyoomi. 

  
  


*

“Shouyou-kun, you got a crush?” Atsumu is relentless.

“Atsumu, do you ever shut up?” Meian snaps. 

“Wait, what?” Hinata’s cheeks burn like cherry tomatoes. 

Atsumu’s mouth curves into a fox-like smile. “Is our dearest Shouyou-kun in love?”

“Nope! Not at all! Me? In love?” Shouyou rubs his neck sheepishly and stares back innocently. 

Meian slams the table with a fist. “Atsumu, for the love of everything good, shut. Up.”

Atsumu actually shuts up.

*

Despite contrary belief, Kiyoomi actually despises Shouyou when they first meet. It’s high school when they play against each other. These are memories he has significantly swept under the rug for the sake of his sanity. Kiyoomi dismisses Shouyou on his first day as the newest MSBY Black Jackals member. Because Shouyou is like a baby bird constantly chirping for his mother, begging to spread his wings and fly freely. He is fucking annoying, is what Kiyoomi means to say. 

As it turns out, Shouyou isn’t as large of a nuisance as he has believed him to be. He’s constantly orbiting in perpetual motion around Kiyoomi, and it makes him wonder what Shouyou sees in him. He who bites his nails to the quick, wears his hair in a loose ponytail when he’s alone because he hates the way his hair gets in his eyes. To his own eye, Kiyoomi is full of imperfections but none of that is important. He feasts his eyes at the illusion. His nails aren’t perfect for no one is perfect, and that helps him sleep at night. And when Shouyou curls up against him on the bus on the way home from a game, Kiyoomi believes he could crush him, tenderly, with his hands if he tries hard enough. 

It’s easy to hold jealousy though, to numbly crush it between the tether of your hands, and let it push and pull, to which Shouyou orbits around you, and Atsumu saunters around with utter destruction in mind. Atsumu is the side antagonist in every novel, pitied with a tragic backstory about how he eat his twin in the womb, and Kiyoomi is warped around the twisted image of Atsumu breaking a butterflies wing, and Shouyou carefully lifts the butterfly into the air.

  
  


*

“I’m sorry, what happened?” Kiyoomi asks.

Kiyoomi is not angry. He should be, he probably is, but he masks it with only a twitch of his eye that conveys how he truly feels. Atsumu is hunched forward, leaning against Bokuto whose eyebrows furrow in embarrassment. “Our car got robbed,” Atsumu says exasperatedly. 

“What the fuck?” 

Bokuto’s eyebrows continue to defy gravity. 

“What the fuck?” Kiyoomi repeats. "How?"

Atsumu moves out of the way, and Kiyoomi sees that the car is damaged, the windows have been shattered and the door handle has been broken into. “It’s not that big of a deal,” Atsumu says with flamboyant grace, like he’s simply shattered a glass. 

Kiyoomi lets out a deep sigh, wishing he doesn’t have to waste his last brain cells trying to understand the situation. 

“Were there any valuable belongings?” 

“Yeah, my dignity,” Atsumu mutters. 

Bokuto opens a bag of doritos. Atsumu joins him. Kiyoomi has never before longed to commit murder like he yearns now. “We may have left our cellphones in the car.” 

“What?” 

“Dorito?” 

“Bokkun, I’ll take another.” 

“I’m going to murder you both.”   
  
“We already called the police!” Bokuto 

The bag of doritos falls to the ground, sending crumbs flying. Kiyoomi’s brain follows it. And Bokuto comes to realize the repercussion of losing his cellphone. “Wait, Akaashi probably thinks I’m dead.” 

“You will be once Meian finds out.” 

*

Meian opts to avoid the possible chance of a lawsuit, and they report the robbery to the police. The mystery robber is caught, and both of their phones are returned. The repair damages are a whole other ordeal, but Kiyoomi isn’t so thankful when the first thing Bokuto does after reuniting with his phone is call Akaashi. It goes somewhat like this. 

“Akaashi!” he cries out. “Did you miss me?” 

“What happened, Bokuto-san?” His words are a discombobulation of chewed up words placed on the tip of his tongue. He can hear Akaashi’s voice from the other side of the line due to the volume. Bokuto rambles, “Me and Tsum-tsum’s car got robbed. I thought I’d never hear from you again.” 

Bokuto’s voice rolls Kiyoomi into another extremely long day, and he’s never wanted to sever Bokuto’s windpipe more than now. He wonders briefly when he has begun to have such murderous thoughts, then realizes. Ever since he’s joined the team. Akaashi soothes over Bokuto’s panic, but Bokuto is very intelligible, do not be mistaken by his brawny facade. Or maybe Akaashi’s simply is getting a headache identical to Kiyoomi’s, who knows, Akaashi Keiji is a mysterious person. All Kiyoomi knows of the man is that he is a tired editor, very likely to be sleep deprived. Kiyoomi wouldn’t consider listening to Bokuto as either a privilege or a delight. 

“Is everything all right?” 

“Yeah-” 

“AKAASHI HUNG UP ON ME.” 

“BOKUTO, BE QUIET.” 

*

  
  
  
“He hung up,” Bokuto says, and Shouyou leaps up to him, patting his back, the urge to console him clear in every line of his body. Kiyoomi’s heart performs cartwheels. It’s probably nothing. 

Atsumu snorts. “Yeah, probably because he’s busy and has better things to do than to listen to yer whining.” 

“I wasn't whining.” Bokuto insists. 

“Yes, you were.” 

“All right!” Shouyou’s voice rings clearly in the midst of the room. Currently they are lounging in Kiyoomi’s living room. Did they ask first before spilling into his apartment and dirtying the recently cleaned couch from yesterday’s mayhem featuring Bokuto’s saliva and Atsumu’s pride? “Is anyone hungry? Captain said that we can rest easy for the remainder of the night.”

At this moment Bokuto’s stomach begins to growl. And Shouyou’s smile brightens, like a light has flickered inside the room and only Kiyoomi is taken back by its radiance. “I want snacks.” 

Atsumu nods. “You can go, we’ll stay here and guard the—“ he points to the alcohol, “the beverages.” 

“The alcohol?” 

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

Atsumu sticks out his tongue, and Bokuto grabs the remote and puts on animal planet, “there’s a new documentary about killer bees.” Atsumu will soon regret his choices. 

Shouyou giggles and grabs Kiyoomi by the wrist with one hand and his wallet with the other. Kiyoomi’s lungs stop, not his heart. Is he breathing? He doesn’t deserve to breathe. He hears victorious cackles coming from the other side of the door as they close it. 

By now, they’re walking down the street, the night has fallen, forcing the sun to disappear. Perhaps God takes care of the sun while the moon serves its time in the sky. He peeks at Shouyou, as if looking at him directly is forbidden. Then he does it anyway. He catches Hinata’s smile and wishes to return it tenfold. But he doesn’t.

“The sky is pretty tonight.” Shouyou starts. He has mesmerization written across his eyes, like seeing darkness sheet over sky in malicious turns is the most fascinating sight he’s seen all day. 

“Not really.” 

Shouyou turns to him but continues walking, not seeming peeved by Kiyoomi’s reply. “You think so? I think it’s pretty.” 

Kiyoomi could do this forever: watch Shouyou marvel over such a trivial thing, and he would feel a rumble in his stomach, like the aftermath of high tides soaring over sand. “It’s the same.” he points out. 

Shouyou laughs, and his footsteps grow leisurely as they reach the vending machines outside the convenience store a block away from the shared apartment complex. “You should smile for once.” Shouyou reaches into his wallet and pushes a few buttons. 

“I’m good.” 

Shouyou softly chuckles, and it's so thin that it wanes in the air that Kiyoomi can hold his laugh for a mere second. “One day, I’ll make you smile, Omi-san.” Shouyou hands him a cold pocari bottle, and for a brief second the base of Shouyou’s index finger brushes past Kiyoomi’s thumb. 

He lives through it, surprisingly. “Is that a threat?” 

Shouyou’s smile is a secret, one that Kiyoomi wishes to break apart and build back together for him and Shouyou to keep. “Perhaps.” 

*

Here’s the thing: Kiyoomi does not fall in love. Call him delusional, but he doesn't believe that there is such a thing as the twisted concept of love. Because if it does exist, then why does Atsumu shy away from it? And why does Bokuto dive into its water head first?

Kiyoomi is not infatuated with Shouyou. That’s a bit of stretch. He’s intrigued and magnetically pulled towards his lifestyle. The way he breathes. How he bends over to tie his laces. How his hair is an orange popsicle mess through which Kiyoomi wants to run his hands and find out if it’s as soft as he imagines. 

That is not love. 

*

There’s an ache in his chest, and he can't seem to tear it away, it bloodies his fingers and scrapes across his palm. He imagines Shouyou in front of him, delicately bandaging his hands and chirping away about a simple admiration he finds in life. Maybe it’s because he takes life as a whole and never takes anything for granted. 

But the worst thing is that the ache doesn’t stop. It lingers the day after, when he wakes up and brushes his teeth for the third time. It continues well into practice. It’s like he’s in a fever dream, in a constant state of mind out of which he can’t escape.

And then it’s the last straw when, two days later, in the middle of practice, Kiyoomi’s eyes wander to Shouyou at the front of the net, sweat worshiping the arch of his cheek, his shirt taunt against his stomach. Shouyou takes a moment to lift up the hem of his shirt and wipe away tedious sweat at the corners of his forehead. 

Kiyoomi stops paying attention to anything else, which he regrets since Bokuto slams the ball across the court and straight into his face. 

He falls back, catching himself on the bottom of his elbow. He sees stars, maybe Shouyou. Maybe Meian runs to him. Who knows? His head hurts a lot. A figure hovers over him and helps him up. “What the hell, Sakusa?” 

“Sorry.” 

Atsumu snorts. Bokuto looks slightly guilty, but because Atsumu and Bokuto are two peas in a pods he can’t help but look entertained. Kiyoomi wants to kill him. Kill them both. But, first, he wants to crawl into a hole. 

“You should go to the trainer, they'll make sure you didn’t have a concussion. Shouyou, walk him there in case he does something stupid.” 

Shouyou bounces forward, and for a second, Kiyoomi’s headache stops. “Sure thing, Captain!” 

Meian rolls his eyes and orders everyone to clean up the gym. Kiyoomi tries his best not to lean against Shouyou’s shoulder, but it just so happens that his nose starts bleeding. He is a bigger idiot than Bokuto and Atsumu combined. He sees Inunaki from across the gym, smiling and bumping his fist against a reluctant Thomas. Curse them all, they all have been wishing for his demise. Except for maybe Meian; he just wants to make sure that his players don’t go and get themselves killed. 

“Here.” Shouyou hands him a wad of tissues. “Hold this against your nose and pinch the top of your nose until we get to the trainer’s room.” 

“I know.” 

“Great!” Shouyou presses it into his hands. Don’t touch me, he wants to snarl, but he can’t, unfortunately, not while blood is gushing from his nose. Shouyou reaches the door first, and politely knocks. No one answers, and he rattles the doorknob to find it unlocked. “We’re coming in!” 

It’s empty, the trainer must be busy tending to someone else. Shouyou prompts Kiyoomi to sit on one of the beds and grabs a chair to sit across from him. “Do you need to lay down?” 

Shouyou isn’t blurry nor has he morphed into a blobbed silhouette, so the hit can’t have been that bad. He rests his head gently against the wall and meets Shouyou’s eyes. The color is like sunset, basking in the afterglow of rich brown, orange even under the spotty light overhead. “I’m good.” 

“You should be more careful,” Shouyou reprimands. “You could have gotten a concussion.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. Hopefully your nose isn’t broken, let me see.” He pulls away the bundle of tissue stuck up against Kiyoomi’s nose. 

“I said I’m fine,” he repeats sternly. And for a moment, Shouyou pulls back. Kiyoomi can breathe for a second, then he’s pushed under water as Shouyou comes close again, kneeling to inspect the damage. 

“Don’t push me away, Omi-san.” 

“Okay.” 

*

As it turns out, Kiyoomi has a mild concussion, according to the trainer, and gets a week off from practice. Luckily, he won’t be missing any games while he’s out. Meian whisks him away, threatening to take him off the starting line up if Kiyoomi even thinks of stepping onto the court. While Meian is not the coach, he is a close second to Coach Foster’s authority. 

Kiyoomi sits on the couch, he’s been forbidden from moving around too much, and stays planted, dwelling in the cushions, watching old reruns of their previous games. Atsumu visits him, not with a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates but to get a good laugh at him. He invites Bokuto to laugh too. 

Shouyou comes over to make him chicken broth, to remind Kiyoomi he’s not sick, simply recovering. Shouyou admits that it’s the only decent meal he can cook without blowing up the kitchen. 

Kiyoomi appreciates the sentiment though. 

*

Atsumu chooses the restaurant this time. Bokuto approves, and Meian is too hungry to object. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi has the pleasure of being seated beside Shouyou. Shouyou smiles throughout dinner, and Kiyoomi lets himself feel the effort of every roundhouse his heart pulls and ignores the way Atsumu grins at his bowl of udon.nd Shouyou laughs along eagerly throughout dinner. Oh, this is definitely bad. 

*

“We have a problem.” 

Everyone has left the locker room but Kiyoomi’s privacy is invaded by none other than Atsumu and Bokuto. He gives them an icy glare and shuts his locker. “Yes. You are currently in my personal space.” 

Atsumu waves him off. “We are past that, Omi-kun, you know that.” 

“I hate you.” 

“And I love you to the deep depths of hell, and you feel the same way as much as you hate to admit it.” He is cornered, there is simply no other explanation to how he lets Atsumu spew such nonsense. “The problem is you.” 

“And your crush on Shouyou!” Bokuto adds. 

Atsumu adds a succinct “No shit, Bokkun.” 

Kiyoomi pulls his arm through the sleeve of his jacket. He doesn’t want to be here. “We aren’t talking about this right now.” 

“But we must! We want to help you.” 

Kiyoomi faces Atsumu and nudges his chest with his two fingers, skeptical. “The last thing I need isto have you two meddlesome weirdos bothering me. At which you are quite successful right now.”

“Wait. What does meddlesome mean?” Bokuto gawks. And proceeds to pull out this phone too look it up. He gawks even more. 

“You will not become my wingman,” Kiyoomi reiterates. 

Atsumu smiles wide, so wide that Kiyoomi could shove an orange peel in his mouth. Maybe that would shut him up. “Think of us as your best friends.” 

“We were never friends to begin with,” Kiyoomi argues. 

“Exactly.” 

*

Kiyoomi updates his list, falls in love a little more, and grows to despise his teammates even more. But the list changes, and his admiration tangles with fondness, and love spills on the pages, and Kiyoomi can’t wipe away the mess. Shouyou is a lot of things. He’s kind and gentle, and he laughs way too much at the team’s disastrous tendencies, yes, Kiyoomi’s talking about Atsumu. 

It’s worse, he thinks, because maybe he does like Shouyou, it’s hard to tell. But he avoids getting distracted during class before Meian can blow a fuse and kick him off the team. 

After another win the team grabs, they are back in another restaurant, sitting squished in a booth together. This time, Atsumu didn’t get to choose the place. Thank god. And the team is drunk, very drunk. Atsumu begins to wax poetic ballads about Bokuto’s biceps, and Bokuto butt dials Akaashi. 

Shouyou is the most drunk of them all, unsteadily reaching for a fork and clinking it against his glass to gather everyone’s attention. “I would like to say something.” He also burps and sways a little. 

“What is it?” 

He points to Kiyoomi. “I like you very much, Sakusa Kiyoomi. Will you go out with me?” 

Oh, shit. Inunaki pulls out his camera a second too late, but Thomas is already holding his phone. Atsumu watches from where he’s rested his head against the crook of Bokuto’s neck. The whole world is watching, and that’s fucking fantastic, so Kiyoomi kisses him. Drunk and all. He whispers for Shouyou and only Shouyou to hear, “Sure.” 

That brilliant smile kills him all over again, “Great.”   
  


*

“So, are we best friends now?” Atsumu asks. 

“No.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you enjoyed this fic, my omihina heart is still not over them, it was super fun to write this cracky? humorous fic heheh! Let me know if you enjoyed the fic, drop a comment or a kudos, those really make my day :)
> 
> edit: HEWWO!! since creator reveals are out muahaha i can yeet more of my typically end notes... this fic was so fun to write, and i had a blast dipping my toes into a different pairing that i am completely addicted so yayyy!! and i am so happy and lovingly overwhelmed by the responses and hhh the kudos tysm! i didn't expect ittt!!
> 
> ty for @indomitablemina for beta-ing this fic!! 
> 
> follow me on twitter @atsuhinass__ if you wanna chat and talk! i love making new writer moots! and for more fic updates!


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